


Nothing Special

by smartblonde413



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M, I'm not sorry, Mild Blood, Sadstuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-08
Updated: 2014-06-08
Packaged: 2018-02-03 22:20:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1758399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smartblonde413/pseuds/smartblonde413
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your name is Latula Pyrope, and you're nothing special. Just one of a thousand copies of you, just a ghost in the vast expanse of the dreambubbles.</p>
<p>But it still shouldn't end like this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nothing Special

Mituna.

He was pretty much the only thing on your mind at that point. That is, aside from the near blinding pain in your stomach.

You're pretty sure this isn't how it's supposed to work. You're dead. You've already been through this once, although to be fair it only took a matter of seconds the first time around. This is much slower.

You shouldn't have been able to die again- double death is a thoroughly stupid concept and quite frankly you hadn't given it much thought until it was staring you in the face. You had met your demise all too typically, at the hands of Lord English. He hadn't even given it a second thought, just blasted a hole right through you and moved on, mowing you down like a buzzbug on the wall. You weren't anything special, and your attempt at a fight was absolutely laughable. You were nothing, not even an alpha timeline version of yourself, just another ghost to occupy the already cramped dreambubbles.

But there Mituna is, next to you, telling you the exact opposite. That you're so brave, so special, he's flushed for you and you're going to be fine, just please hang on Tula, look at me, say something please.

So you do, but you choke on your words and you realize there are tears streaming down your face.

“I...” You heave a shuddering gasp before you can continue. “...I'm so sorry, Tuna..” Your eyes want so badly to shut but you force them open, force yourself to look at him. His eyes are yellow from crying, his helmet laying next to him, forgotten, tears working down his face through the grooves of his psionic scars.

He tells you it's not your fault, don't blame yourself, he's flushed for you, he's flushed for you, he's flushed for you, a chanting rhythm in an attempt to bring you comfort in what you know will be your last moments. He cries harder at the lines, knowing that this reversal of roles is so twisted, so ironic. How many times had you worked him down from a fit of self- hatred with those exact words?

You cough, and the searing agony it brings twists your face into a grimace. He panics, gripping your hand in his tighter, his words coming faster and louder and more desperate. You're okay, you're okay, you're going to be fine, he'll get help somehow, just please don't leave me Tula.

But you feel yourself fading, so with the last of your strength you ignore the screaming pain and pull yourself up to kiss him, a tear- soaked goodbye, before your vision fades to black and you whisper one last, weak 'flushed for you' as you slip into the abyss, alone.

**Author's Note:**

> First fic on this account, hell yes. Maybe leave a comment so i can figure out how this site works?


End file.
